The Other Choice
by abigail.agnew.92
Summary: What if Mary had chosen Bash? This is their story
1. Chapter 1

What would happen if Mary had chosen to marry Bash and not Francis?

I knock on the heavy wooden door, not bothering for a page to announce me. I hear, "Come in." through my racing heart and walk on slowly. The room is warm from the fire but I feel utterly cold, and I stand frozen. He looks up and his eyes meet mine. In them I can see his concern and his anxiety, and I can't bare to look any longer.

"What is it Mary?", I hear him say, his voice unsteady, filled with worry.

"Francis", I say, "I'm not sure how to say this."

"Say what?" I study his expression and his eyes are wild, he must know what I am about to say.

"I cannot marry you."

"Mary, please don't do this. I know you love me, I know you do. Don't let fear rule your life. I would die for you. Even if I could only have you for a short time, it would be worth it."

The pain in his eyes scorches my soul, and my heart sinks with despair. I want with every ounce of my being to throw myself at him. To be able to tell him that I love him, despite everything. But I fight with all my will to hold my tongue, and to suppress these feelings. It's best that he believes I've moved on, that I don't feel the same way. Maybe then he'll let me go, and he too can

move on.

So I lie. "I can't Francis. Not only because of the prophecy but because I love another." I feel this lie pulling me down like an inescapable weight, my lungs fight for air under the pressure, and my face grows hot.

"Who, my brother?" he says in anguish and disgust. "Your telling me that the love you and Bash share is greater than that between you and I. Of all the horrid things to hear uttered from your lips." I can't bare the pressure any longer, I feel I might collapse.

"Goodbye Francis." I quickly run out of the room, tears beginning to form on my cheeks. Once outside I let myself fall apart. I rush back to my rooms, so no one roaming the halls will see me in such a state. Once there, I fight to keep myself from falling to pieces on the floor. I cling to the upholster of my bed for support, and I slowly fall to ground.

My heart hurts from the pain, the guilt, and the sorrow. I weep, for Francis whose life I have ruined, who now must surely hate me with every power under heaven. I weep for the love we shared, the love that in a matter of minutes I destroyed. Leaving Francis to believe I no longer loved him, but instead that my heart belonged to his brother. I cried for the lie that I told, and from the pain of keeping in the truth of my feelings.

But was it truly a lie? Yes, my feelings for Bash were lesser than those for Francis but did they hold no truth? Even I can't deny the bond Bash and I made while Francis was gone. Don't I love him enough to marry him instead of watching him die? I know that I do love him in a way, and I know that he loves me. But, it was not the same. Not the way I loved Francis.

After perhaps, an hour of self pity and remorse I decide I must speak with Bash about my plans. I pick myself up from off the ground and walk out of my room towards Bash's chambers. I walk slowly replaying every moment every detail, trying to convince myself that I am making the right choice.

Down the hallway I see someone coming closer towards me. Catherine stops in front of me and I can sense her anger and her worry.

"Mary, please",she begs, "Don't do this. Francis has told me of your plans and I am begging you to reconsider." Her face is desperate, her eyes, racing.

"Catherine, you know why I can't marry Francis. You are the one who cautioned me against it."

"You don't have to marry my son, but you also don't have to marry Sebastian. If you do Francis will not only lose you, he'll lose his thrown. I will lose my crown! Go back to Scotland, I can arrange for you and Sebastian to leave, so no harm can come to you, please!"

"Catherine", I say in a calming voice to ease her franticness, "I will not flee, I will follow through on my mothers orders and marry the next king of France. Which, I'm sorry if it upsets you, must be Bash if you wish to save Francis' life!"

With that I walk away, still heading for Bash. When I arrive at his door I knock lightly then go in.

Bash is staring at the fire, his posture still and tense.

"Mary", he says after a second,"What is it?" He studies my face, he must be as apprehensive as I am. "Sebastian" I say, trying to keep my voice as even and regal as possible. "Have you heard about my...recent decision." The awkwardness in the room is almost overwhelming and I find myself grasping at something to say.

"No. I've been locked in my room all night, trying to avoid the chaos that is surely unfolding." His calmness and ease helps to loosen me a bit in my posture and to speak more leveled. I know that once these words are spoken that they can never be unspoken, and never unheard. I know that the path I have chosen to follow will either be the one I live to regret, or the path of relief. Whichever the future holds I know I must follow it, no matter my worry or hesitations.

"I choose you."

At first he looks startled, a look of surprise engulfs him and for a few moments he stands speechless. "You mean to say," he begins, "That you wish to marry me, despite everything." A smile crosses his face and his eyes sparkle with adoration. He stares at me like a man seeing for the first time. His love and pleasure radiates off him and I can't help but feel happy as well.

I nod my head in assurance and a smile, too, crosses my face. In two long strides he has my face cupped in his hands and my lips on his. He kisses me like never before. As if he is sure and he knows we are un breakable. Like our love will never die. It will never falter. Suddenly I feel a rush of joy knowing that he is mine and I am his and that he feels so sure of me.

I don't allow for things to go any farther than the one kiss, as I am still conflicted. It seems to be enough for him though, his expression tells me that he knows that this will not be the end of us and it will not be the last kiss that we share.

"Mary, I love you more than anything. You don't realize how truly happy you've made me, or how whole. I promise to love you for the rest of my days, and to never stop. Even after I am long gone, my heart will belong to you. Forever and always.

His promise of love rings in my ears like bells chiming a song of hope. I know that my love is not nearly strong as his, that part of me still belongs to another, but I have hope. Hope that someday all of my heart may belong to Bash. That perhaps, my heart will heal from what it has endeavored and that it will grow strong once more. Bash is my hope and I wish to hold onto it until it becomes real.

A page comes blasting into the room disturbing the serene silence.

"Queen Mary is requested in the thrown room." He stares quizzically, as he leaves, probably wondering why I am alone in a man's bed chamber.

"Bash why don't you come also," i say, "The King will be looking for an answer and you should be present as you are key." He looks unsure if he should. Wondering if coming with me is best, but reluctantly follows me when I leave the room. He carefully stays behind me, not to press his way in.

When we arrive at the throne room the king and queen are seated and Francis is standing by his mothers side. The room is filed with important advisors and dignitaries. Amongst them, my mother and the messenger who brought the news of Mary Tudor's death. They all stand patiently for someone to speak, for me to tell them of my decision.


	2. Chapter 2

I take a deep a breath and gather all my courage. Trying to sound diplomatic and as unemotional as possible I say, "I have decided that in the interests of all parties involved, including those of our countries, that it is best I wed Sebastian."

As soon as the words leave my lips the room is full of noise. Many are outraged, and for good reason. No one overall looks happy, but I try my best to look as though this does not affect me and continue. "I suggest, your Majesties, that Sebastian be legitimized. I'm sure the Vatican will make him the heir to the throne when it sees that our two countries are united."

Catherine looks as though she could come at me with her bare hands and the agony on Francis' face is enough to make my heart skip a beat. The King looks pleased that we have come to a resolution, and is surely glad that he will still have the Queen of Scotland to use as a front for invading England.

The King stands and calls the room to order. "Mary, I am...glad that we are able to come to a peaceful solution together. Your wedding will happen as soon as possible, we will force the Pope into legitimizing Bash. In fact, you will be married tomorrow, here. It doesn't need to be lavish, just official. I'm sure that the servants will be able to decorate by then."

I speak carefully not to lash out in anger. "Yes, it is quite well that your son need not be killed. And yes, I do believe this marriage should take place as soon as possible, as it will give both of our countries more security." I glance to Bash who I can tell is attempting to hide a smile, and he nods in agreement.

"It's settled then," Henry booms,"go now, make your preparations, and tomorrow I will have a queen as a daughter-in-law."

Bash and I leave, and I tell him I would like to speak with him privately. He leads me to his room and we sit and begin to talk. "Bash," I say, "I know that this I a lot for you. You were never raised to be the ruler of anywhere. You didn't plan for your life to go this way and I understand if you are apprehensive."

He clasps my small hands in his rough ones and stares at me with such a look of adoration I blush. "Mary," he starts, "I would marry you this instant, or I would wait a thousand years. As long as you are mine, all other things will not matter. You have made me the happiest man to walk the earth, and I have been waiting for you to begin to love me for so long, and I believe that you are. I'm not a fool, I can see through the charade you use on Francis. I know you still love him. But I also know, a small part of you loves me as well.

I stare at him dumbstruck, shocked that he has seen through the wall that I'd been using to block out my feelings. "And how are you sure of that? How are you sure of me? How do you know that you'll be happy with me, and not another, who's heart isn't already taken?"

He scoots his chair closer to mine, so that I can feel his hot breath on my face. "I know, because if you didn't you wouldn't care about my feelings. You wouldn't talk to me now, you'd only be concerned about saving Francis, not whether or not I am comfortable with marrying you. I know because If you didn't love me, this would only be a marriage of convenience. But it isn't, if it was you wouldn't allow me to touch you like this." His hand strokes my cheek, and he brings me to my feet. He grips my waist so I am pressed up against him so tightly that our faces touch. "I know because if you didn't," he continues, "You wouldn't let me do this."

He kisses me, and my whole body radiates. He holds me In his arms with such a sense of security, that I forget my troubles. Francis, England, they all seem to melt away.

When he pulls away, he still holds me close. He whispers, "I know I will be happy because I have hope. Hope for us."

His words fill me with guilt for not being able to return these feelings, for not feeling nearly as committed. Trying not to sound cold I say, "That's all well, but the moment we are married you will be the King of Scotland and not soon after the king of France and even England, god willing."


End file.
